


Coffee At Three In the Morning

by IronStrange3000



Series: Avengers Febru-Whump 2021 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Coffee, Early Mornings, Friendship, Guilt, Memories, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronStrange3000/pseuds/IronStrange3000
Summary: The infamous former assassin, Black Widow, is known as a cold-hearted, uncaring machine. But in the middle of the night, when she's wakened by nightmares of the past, that's far from the truth. But she never says anything; no one understands, no one could possibly understand.Well, maybe ONE person could.Part of Febru-whump 2021. Prompt: Do you want to talk about it?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov
Series: Avengers Febru-Whump 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139609
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Coffee At Three In the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I find the MCU severely lacks Nat and Bucky interactions. (I know, I know, we can't put EVERYTHING from the comics into the films but still!!)
> 
> Prompt: Do you want to talk about it?

She sat up in bed, instantly alert. She listened carefully in the darkness, but all she could hear was the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. Taking a breath to try to calm herself, Natasha pushed back the covers and got out of bed. Most of the time, the memories didn’t bother her. If they happened during waking hours, it was easy to distract herself. She was good at shifting her mind completely off of one thing and onto another. 

But when the memories came at night, it wasn’t as easy.

Quietly, with cat-like tread, she made her way to the elevator and quietly asked FRIDAY to get her to the common floor. The floor was absolutely silent in the dead of night, and the former assassin crept silently into the darkness, her footsteps inaudible, even in the dead silence.

“FRIDAY, lights at fifty percent.” She whispered without slowing her pace. The lights came up slightly at the request, and Natasha made her way to the kitchen, blinking bloodshot eyes. With a slightly shaky hand, she placed a mug beneath the drip of the coffeemaker, knowing Tony had already filled it in preparation for the next morning, and turned it on.

A distant shriek made her snap to attention. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that shriek tonight; in fact, that’s what had woken her up in the first place.

But a quick look around at her surroundings confirmed that she was alone on this floor. Even if it were the scream of one of the others elsewhere in the compound, she knew their voices enough to know that that wasn’t one of them. FRIDAY would’ve also alerted to any intruder, so that could only mean it was just an echo.

She’d heard it many times over the years. The sound of screams was the thing that most haunted her dreams as well as her waking life. Some details just never leave.

Shuddering slightly, she opened the cabinets and selected a random cereal, not even bothering to see which one. She filled up a bowl, grabbed the now-filled mug, and sat down at the island, flipping through a newspaper someone had left on the table.

The printed words offered little solace from the echoes of screams. She focused as hard as she could on the print. Most of the time focusing on something else was easy, but some nights the echoes won. Tonight seemed like one of those nights.

Sipping on her coffee, she became aware of footsteps entering the common area. These steps were heavier than her own, but still quiet; a quiet that only comes after serious training. But they were footsteps that were familiar. She smiled slightly as she sipped her coffee a little more as a large silhouette came closer.

“ _Can’t sleep, Barnes?”_ she asked in Russian without looking up.

The dim light shined off of Bucky’s metal arm as he made his way into the kitchen, clad in a dark red bathrobe and matching slippers. “

_“I could ask you the very same question.”_ He replied. Switching to English, he continued. “I hope there’s enough coffee for two.”

She gestured half-heartedly to the machine on the counter. “Help yourself.”

He did just that, placing a mug underneath and hitting the button. As that filled up, he snagged a poptart pack from the box left open on the counter. “Any reason you’re up this early?” He tore open the wrapper and bit into both poptarts at the same time.

She sighed, downing the last of the coffee in her mug, not even glancing his way. “Couldn’t sleep.”

"Clearly." The chair next to her squeaked as Bucky pulled it out and sat in it. “ _Natalia, look at me.”_ She picked up her head after a hesitant moment. _“Talk to me.”_

A part of her begged to not say anything. On these rare nights, if anyone woke up and found her in the kitchen, she typically would pretend that nothing was wrong; Black Widow doesn’t have any feelings, right? No one else would understand, anyhow. But Bucky was different. Bucky had as much red in his own ledger.

Messing around with her cereal, she considered before sighing. _“I don’t remember what it was…all I remember was hearing their screams…”_ She took a spoonful into her mouth. _“It woke me up.”_

Bucky nodded, not even having to ask who “they” were. “I have the same problem. Just because I was under Hydra’s control, doesn’t mean I can’t remember pained screams…or the terror in eyes, or…” He trailed off, the look in his eyes suggesting he was drifting away from her. His eyes stared off at nothing for a good while, before he could come back to the present, blinking rapidly. “There are many things I can never tell Steve.”

Natasha nodded, letting his words sink in. “If it helps, I won’t tell him. Or the others.”

He smiled. “I won’t tell, either.”

She couldn’t help but return the smile. “Barnes, you got chocolate on your teeth!” and the two of them laughed, the tension in both their bodies visibly dissolving.

A few minutes later, they refilled their mugs and made their way to the living room, flipping on the large television. He placed his flesh arm around her shoulders, while Natasha leaned against him, putting her feet up on the coffee table. They sat in silence, just enjoying each other’s company and watching whatever junk came on in the early hours. As the last few hours went by and the rest of the team began to wake up, they didn’t say anything more. But maybe that was because each other’s presence said enough.

Steve eventually made his way to the common floor, already in his running clothes. He exited the elevator, looking around, and visibly relaxing when he saw Bucky on the couch. He walked over, waving slightly at Nat, before gently kissing Bucky’s hair.

“Long night?”

Bucky’s crooked smile peered out from under his hair. “You don’t know the half of it, punk.”

Their eyes met; a silent conversation that told Steve so much, yet so little at the same time. Still, he knew not to push it.

The moment was interrupted when a sleepy and irritated Tony stumbled into the room, demanding, “Okay, who the hell drank all the coffee?”

Nat and Bucky looked at each other, before looking Tony in his eyes and sipping from their mugs.

**Author's Note:**

> RIP Tony's coffee. 
> 
> So, yeah, that's number two of Febru-whump! Trying to do an every-other-day thing.
> 
> Lemme hear what you all think!


End file.
